Like Oil and Water
by Dude13
Summary: Short tempered, overprotective redheaded caretakers simply don't mix with overly uptight bureaucrats. [Oneshot]


**Author's Warning**: Like everything else, this takes place in my series, set up by the events in my first story "More Than My Friend" where the big event is that Frankie adopts Mac as her "little brother". If you haven't read that story yet, I strongly suggest you do so now, or else you might get terribly confused.

* * *

"Tag! You're it!" 

"Nuh-uh! Nuh-uh! Never touched me!"

"Oh no way, I _so_ got you!!

"Nuh-uh! You _missed_!"

"Yoohooo! How about over _here_? Huh? Betcha can't catch meeee!"

"Oh yeah? We'll see about-"

And just like that, the trio's game came to an abrupt halt the moment one of them suddenly realized they weren't alone anymore. Ceasing pursuit of his giggly pigtailed companion, the little boy skidded to a stop as he finally noticed the odd figure standing in the Foster's gateway, where she calmly observed the little ones' play.

Mac had to be quite honest, the mysterious woman clad in prim black skirt, matching jacket and corrective spectacles seemed harmless enough as she flashed them all a warm, friendly grin. Also, the fact that someone he didn't recognize had shown up at Foster's was hardly unusual at all, as the house received numerous visitors daily.

However, all _those_ people wished to do was look for and adopt an imaginary friend. The fact that this stranger's focus was fixated entirely on the children was a tad unnerving for the little boy, to put it lightly.

"Hey, Mac!" Bloo squealed impatiently once he realized the game had been paused.

"Yoohooooo!" Goo trilled in an attempt to grab her friend's attention. "Mac? Mac, whatcha doin'? Mac, we're over here! Over here! Over here, Mac! You can't tag us if we're over here and you're all the way…over…uh…"

The little girl's chatter petered out as she and Bloo also finally noticed the unannounced arrival. For a few moments, they could all do little else except gawk suspiciously in a dead silence. Despite the little group's extremely cautious demeanor, never once did the strange woman's disarming smile waver at all as suddenly plodded right onto the lawn.

"Mac?" she suddenly asked gently as she gradually made a beeline towards the child in question. Instinctively Mac elicited a frightened whimper and clumsily edged away a little from the stranger's advances.

"Oh no, please, don't be scared!" She immediately pleaded, making a serious effort to appear as unthreatening as possible. "It's okay, I won't hurt you, I prom-"

"My mom said _never_ to talk to strangers." Goo muttered while glowering fiercely at the woman, who only broke out into a quick fit of laughter and nodded curtly in reply.

"Yes, yes, that's true, sweetie." She chuckled while reaching into her pocket to retrieve a plastic ID card. "But it's okay, see? You can see here, I'm from state social services…you know what that is, Mac?"

Her attempt to seem non-hostile thus unfortunately failed completely. The instant those fateful words rolled off her tongue, Mac paled in fright and instinctively began backing away. As the startled child struggled to put as much distant between him and the woman as possible, his friends instinctively protectively scuttled over to his side as they eyed the social worker warily.

Despite the obvious discomfort she was causing, the women only chuckled yet again to try and lighten the thick tension.

"It's okay, you can trust me, honest." She assured softly. "Don't worry, Mac, I'm not gonna hurt you. All I -_EEEEK_!"

She let loose with an ear-splitting shocked screech the moment she realized that a heavy metal rake was about to score a direct blow to her head.

Luckily, despite her age her reflexes were in excellent shape, and she narrowly avoided having her face clawed. The badly startled woman backed off a few paces; only to literally leap back another two feet as her assailant tried to strike again.

"Leave them _alone_!" A twenty-two-year-old redhead screamed as she practically materialized from nowhere to place herself protectively between the strange woman and the little ones. "Get _out_ of here! Go!"

"_Frankie_!" Mac gasped in relief at her sudden appearance. "What's-"

"Everyone, back to the house, _now_!" Frances "Frankie" Foster only barked like a drill-sergeant, never peeling her gaze off the stranger. "All of you, _quick_!"

"But-"

"_GO_!" The caretaker bellowed, an in a moment the little ones were off and dashing like mad for the safety of the Victorian mansion.

"_You_." Frankie growled viciously at the mysterious stranger. "I don't know _who_ you are and _where_ you came from, but I promise, if you touch so much as one hair on their-"

"-_Social Services_."

The instant she received the cold, flat answer, almost instantaneously the caretaker's protective rage was immediately crushed under a wave of mortified horror.

"…E-excuse m-m-me?" Frankie asked in a hoarse squeak. Grimacing angrily, the woman paused for a few moments to adjust her glasses before she glared daggers at the slack-jawed caretaker.

"Social Services! You _did_ just ask me where I came from, and I promise, you _certainly_ won't hear the last of this!" she reprimanded Frankie harshly like a stern parent. "Goodness, are _you_ the Frances Foster that I've read about?"

"I…I…well, yeah but…" Frankie began sputter nervously, as she dropped her rake and started gesturing frantically for the infuriated bureaucrat to settle down. "Look, look, let's try and talk this over, okay? I swear, I just thought that-"

"Well, you certainly live up to the reputation noted in your file!" came the angry reply. "All I needed was to talk to you and the child for a little bit, but now that I see it would be a blatant violation of my duty to allow Mac to stay here any longer! Miss Foster, I am taking the boy with me this very instant!"

The moment the annoymous woman stated the horrifically unthinkable in an undeniably serious tone, Frankie went as pale as a ghost and looked as if she was going to faint on the spot as she muttered softly,

"You're...y-you're going to _what_?"

"I told you, Miss Foster, I don't need to see any more of the horror I've already witnessed here!" the social worker just shot back. "I just thank God that I managed to show up just in time before Lord only knows what would happen to the child!"

"B-but I-"

"No buts! I'm taking Mac to the prospective couple interested in adopting him, and _then_ we'll-"

"_WHAT_?" Frankie screamed to the high heavens as her horror transformed into mind-blowing bafflement. Although she had nearly been deafened by the piercing cry of disbelief, the social worker didn't even flinch as she glared back coldly.

"Don't play stupid with me, Miss Foster." She scolded sharply. "Do you _really_ expect me to believe you had absolutely no idea what you were doing when you were given temporary care of the child?"

"But…b-b-b-but…b-b-b-b-b-but…" Frankie just stuttered moronically as she struggled to understand the situation. "But I thought that I-"

"When we put a child in foster care, than the temporary guardian should know _fully_ well that it's far from a permanent arrangement. Honestly, Miss Foster, I don't know _what's_ going on, but as soon as I sort this out back at-"

"_WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT_?" The redhead burst out wailing in pained befuddlement.

"Miss Foster, do you honestly not understand? The boy was only placed in your temporary care, but how you managed to get into the system in the first place after what I just witnessed here, I don't-"

"_Temporary_ care?" Frankie repeated dumbly while her head felt like it was spinning in immense confusion.

"It says so right in the boy's file!" Her foe groaned in exasperation as she shoved a large beige file folder into the thoroughly perplexed girl's hands. "It has Mac's current status right _there_. See? It clearly states that he's living in a foster home as of the present, and…"

As she droned on, Frankie just gawked silently at the official documentation for a few moments before slowly craning her head back up as the social worker babbled on.

"…And as required by state law, a child will stay in the care of his or her specified foster home until they're ready to be placed in a permanent home of a family willing to adopt, and as I think the couple I'm working with may be the perfect match for-"

"Holy God Almighty, are you _kidding_ me?" The frazzled caretaker cried in dismay after glancing over the file, much to the social worker's irk.

"Miss Foster, _please_! Will you let me-"

"No! No, I will _not_!" Frankie refused, effectively driving the other woman even further to wits end. "This is absolutely insane!"

"Miss Foster-"

"No! Whatever it is, _no_!" Frankie growled. "I'm not going to stand here and let you tell me that you have the right to drag Mac away from his family here-"

"For the _last_ time Miss Foster, foster care means only _temporary_ care for the child, not-"

"_YOU'VE MADE A HORRIBLE MISTAKE_!" The twenty-two-year-old screeched.

"Miss Foster!" came the prompt hissed reply. "I don't know _what_ you're trying to accuse me of, but if you dare try say I'm not trying to keep Mac's best interests in mind-"

"I'm not!" Frankie argued fervently. "But that's what you are going to do until you realize that you've made a huge mistake here! I don't know you're thinking, but Mac doesn't live in _that_ kind of foster home! He doesn't live in _that_ kind of foster care! Dear God, I could've sworn I already took care of all this with you people! I have his adoption papers inside in my room-"

"What in the world are you talking about?" The social worker demanded crossly with a skeptical glower. "It says right here in the file Mac currently lives in a-"

"_Where_?" Frankie snarled. "I'm telling you, you've made a mistake! He doesn't live in a _foster_ home; he lives at _Foster's_ Home for Imaginary Friends! And he does not, and I repeat, he does not live in _foster_ care! He lives under the _permanent_ care of _me_, Frankie _Foster_! _I'm_ his legal guardian! _I'm_ his family! _Me_! Do you understand? Now where on here does it say that he's up for adoption _again_?"

"Read the fine print, Miss Foster!" the woman barked. "It says right _here_ that Mac is currently residing in-"

"Are you _blind_? That doesn't say 'Foster Home,' that says '_Foster's __Home_!' Meaning 'Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends'!" Frankie screeched. "YOU MISREAD THE STUPID ABRREVIATION!"

"Oh really?" came the unconvinced sneer as her foe read over the file again. "Is that so? Like I'd really be here all because I…I-I…didn't properly read the…oh my..."

The color drained from her face, her bugging eyes nearly knocked the glasses off her face, and she rapidly trailed off the instant she realized the fact that Frankie indeed spoke nothing but the honest truth. For a few seconds she couldn't help but gawk dumbly at the few fateful words as she struggled in vain to comprehend the magnitude of her gargantuan error. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of painfully tense silence, the massively mortified bureaucrat slowly raised her gaze back to the enraged caretaker.

"_Well_?" Frankie barked flatly.

The humiliated social worker immediately began to babble apologetically. "Oh…oh goodness, I…I simply can't apologize enough for…if I knew he already had a permanent guardian…a-and a very suitable and protective one, I might add… " she threw in for good measure with a weak grin. "I wouldn't…I-I. …Surely we don't have to inform my superiors about our little 'misunderstanding' here today-"

"_LEAVE!_" Frankie shrieked at the top of her lungs as twin fires raged in her emerald eyes. "_NOW!"_

The thoroughly humiliated woman needed no second bidding. She immediately sprinted pell-mell back to her car as if pursued by a pack of ravenous wolves. After practically clawing furiously at the door handle, she threw herself into her vehicle, turned on the ignition, and with a screech of tires she took off, vanishing without a trace in a matter of moments with the exception of a few tire marks.

Once she was positive the nightmare was over, Frankie gasped loudly as she became awash with terror the moment she realized how badly the encounter could've ended, specifically the possible lost of custody over a certain child. Tremendously shaken by the nasty encounter, and free from the rage that had possessed her earlier, the trembling redhead turned around and stumbled like a victim of shell shock up the walkway towards a particular trio taking refuge on the porch.

"Frankie?" Mac murmured worriedly as he scuttled down the steps towards her. "Frankie what's wrong-"

The instant he was close enough the young woman dropped to her knees and wordlessly enveloped the child in a tight hug.

"Frankie?" The little boy continued to inquire warily as she squeezed him close. "Frankie, what – _WHOA_! Hey! Too tight! _AUGH_! Too tight!"

"Hey! Hey, what gives?" Bloo whined as he hopped off the porch and scuttled over.

"Yeah!" Goo chattered excitedly as she raced along close behind. "Frankie, what's wrong? Frankie? Frankie? Frankie, what happened? What'd the weird lady want? Huh? What happened? What happened? What happened?"

"Yeah, what…hey…Frankie? Frankie?" Mac whimpered as all of a sudden, not only did her embrace loosen considerably, but also she abruptly became oddly limp. "Could…could you not lean on me so much? Frankie? Frankie, you okay? Fra-..uh oh…"

The shock of the hectic encounter had proven to be too much for her to handle; the caretaker had slipped into a dead faint.

* * *

"Frankie! Frankie! Hey! _Hey_! Hey, Frankie!" 

As soon as she heard the impatient squeaks and felt the sharp tugs on her jacket, the redhead glanced away from her dishwashing down at a familiar little blob.

"Hmmm?" she murmured distractedly as she placed a freshly scrubbed plate aside.

"Frankie, some weird guy was at the front door asking for you!" Bloo blurted out. "He was here, and-"

"Wait, huh?" she muttered as he swiftly grabbed her full attention. "Hold on, who was-"

"Yeah!" the little creature explained. "He was wearing a fancy suit and stuff, and he mentioned something about Social Services or something like that, and he wanted to talk to you about-"

Almost immediately her eyes nearly bugged clean from her skull as she became possessed with horrified surprise.

"_WHAT_?" Frankie involuntarily shrieked. "Oh…oh, God, _no_! Lord Almighty, no! They misread his file _AGAIN_? Oh God, what do I need to do, get a legal name change?"

"Huh?" Bloo grunted confusedly at her question. "Doing _what_ again? Look, all I know is that the guy asked to see Mac for-"

"_NO_!" She let loose with a horrified screech. "Wait, _please_ don't tell me that he's here to-"

"Hey, whoa! Calm down here!" The little imaginary friend cried. "Easy, easy there! Take a chill-pill, it's okay! I already take care of it! He left just a few minutes ago. Don't worry-"

"What do you _mean_ you took care of it?" the hysterical Frankie roared incredulously. "Didn't you say he was looking for Mac?"

"Yup!" Bloo answered oddly calmly. "Said something about Mac should meet his 'possible new parents' for a little bit or something weird like that… Don't worry though, I made sure he got what he needed, and he-"

"Got what he needed? What? _HOW_?" the painfully bewildered redhead wailed. "It's eleven o'clock on a Tuesday morning! Mac's in school right now!"

Despite her skyrocketing panic, Bloo never once seemed the slightest bit concerned about the issue, and much to her bafflement, he actually flashed a sly smirk.

"_Oh_…" he chuckled deviously. "_Is_ he now?"

While he chortled mischievously, Frankie gawked incredulously for a few moments before screeching as loudly as her lung capacity enabled her,

"_WHO'S WITH THE SOCIAL WORKER, BLOO_?"

* * *

"…So since this will be your first time meeting Mr. and Mrs. Jorgensen, it'll only be for a few hours or so." The squat social worker explained with an excited grin as he drove. "However, if things go right today, then maybe we can finally get you out of foster care and into a real family. What do you say to that, little guy?" 

The extraordinarily odd-looking "child," clad in red T-shirt, khaki pants, cheap brown wig, and a fake nose to top the disguise off, only clapped his hands, beamed like a nitwit and squealed happily,

"Heeheehee! Chocolate milk! Chocolate milk! I liiiiiiiiiike, chocolate milk! Hahaha! Row, row, row your toast, gently down the spleen…"

**The End **


End file.
